Drawing Hope
by ForeverBlackSun
Summary: Kaneki's always been good at drawing and sketching. It's almost like when he's reading-he loses himself in a different world, one where he's free. Hide really knows he shouldn't be jealous of drawings, but when Kaneki looks at them so adoringly, with all his attention-it makes him wonder. What could they possibly be? "They're my reason for living, Hide." Spoilers for end, angst.


**Title: Drawing Hope/Drawing Hide**

**Pairing: Hidekane**

**Warnings: angst, oncoming slaught of feels, mAYBE SOME ANGER AND PAIN AND SADNESS OKAY, another barrage of 'I just want them to be happy's, spoilers for those who haven't finished the series and other stuff. Kinda fluffy if you squint past all the angst?**

* * *

Kaneki had always been good at drawing. He'd always been talented at things in general like cooking or painting, but most of the time he'd brush it off as nothing, a fluke or over exaggeration on Hide's part. In reality however, he was _good_ at this stuff. He didn't cook often because it was easier for him to eat on the go or frozen food, but some days he'd buy groceries and while Hide pretended to watch TV (because watching Kaneki was _so_ much better), he would chop and dice and stir, humming occasionally. These were some of the moments Hide liked best-when Kaneki seemed to lose himself in his own little world, humming and smiling as he drew or cooked-but part of him was selfish and childish.

Though he was Kaneki's best friend, he was never allowed to see any of his paintings or drawings. No matter how many times he begged and blackmailed Kaneki (really, he was such an adorable little baby, splashing water all over the tub-he would be doing the public a favor!), he never received any results. Kaneki would always get this flustered, panicked look, and Hide would give in because he really hadn't meant to take it that far. Still, it was always something that bugged him-what did Kaneki draw in his infinite amount of sketchpads and books? What did he paint on those canvases, hidden and stowed away where Hide couldn't reach them?

Technically, he was allowed to see some, but none of the ones that _matter_. Well, that's not completely true, actually. Kaneki always allowed him to see the sketches he drew of inanimate things-the sunset, flowers in a field, a river. They're beautiful, a scene captured in this one picture stored away where it can't be seen by anyone but a blond who's just a little too in love with his best friend.

Honestly though, it's the drawings he can't see that make Hide jealous. He knows it's stupid of someone he doesn't even know, but he is. He remembers how he felt that day, when Kaneki told him what it was he drew that Hide was never allowed to see.

_I'm drawing my reason for living._

He knows that whatever it is, _whoever_ it is, is extremely important to Kaneki. He can tell by the lift of his lips, the way he seems so very content whenever he's sketching, that they're something he holds dear to his heart.

He really, really, hates not being able to see the drawings. All his life, Hide has known everything about his best friend, has understood him more than anyone else in the world, has _loved _him more than anyone else in the world-but it stops there. Because Kaneki already has something he cherishes more than anything else.

* * *

When he sees Kaneki in that tunnel, muttering to himself with a shock of white hair, he really doesn't believe he's ever been so happy in his entire life.

**"No, no, no, nonono_nono, _Hide can't know, _notHideCan'TKNOW NOT HIDE-"_**

"It's alright, man," he says as relief and utter joy that his most important person in the world, no matter how scarred, how different, is in front of him fills his chest. "I already knew."

Kaneki tilts his head, child-like, as he repeats. **"Hi_de knOWS?"_**

"Yeah, I already know," he repeats softly, walking close enough to press a hand to Kaneki's cheek. "Sorry for not being there for you. You must have been lonely, fighting all by yourself."

This Kaneki nods, still half-lost and so young mentally it hurts Hide to see such obvious emotion in his best friend's eyes.

"_**LONelY**__," _Kaneki agrees, his voice a scratchy, grating sound, as if different voices are trying to talk over each other. "_**MIsSeD MaMA. MISSED HiDE**__. __**LONeLY**__."_

His heart throbs painfully, and he reaches down to hold Kaneki's hand in his own, cupping a pale face with his other.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, Kaneki. You tried your best, didn't you? All this time, fighting and fighting," he whispers, squeezing his best friend's hand and brushing his thumb across a pale cheek while avoiding the mask.

"_**TiRED," **_Kaneki agrees, leaning into Hide's hand. Hide swallows and feels something burn at the back of his eyes because he knows what he has to do next.

"I know," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I need you to do me a favor, alright? Just fight once more, this one last time, and give it your all. Can you do that for me, Kaneki?"

"_**HIdE," **_the half-ghoul croaks, staring at him. _**"DO BeST FOr hIDE?"**_

"Yeah, Kaneki," he manages. "For me."

"_**oKAY," **_Kaneki grates through with a nod, uncovered red eye staring at the blonde. _**"OKaY."**_

Hide knows that Arima will be here any second, that he should leave-but it's been so long and he really should've expected this to hurt-because all he can do is pray. Pray that Kaneki lives, that everything will be okay, that maybe he'll still have a best friend when tomorrow comes.

"Bye," he says thickly, giving a half-wave to Kaneki. With the way Kaneki stares at him, he feels almost as if he's leaving the other boy to die. Acid burns in his throat at the thought and he turns to walk away.

"You can't die," he mutters to himself as he reaches the outside. "You still haven't told me what your reason for living is."

* * *

He's in a haze, lost and hurt and thousands of other things he can't bother to think about right now. Before he knows it, he's in front of Kaneki's apartment, something that feels like a ghost from times long gone. He stands for a while, simply staring at the door, before he remembers that he a key to the apartment.

He's always had the key, to be honest-kept it as a reminder of Kaneki, of this symbol of trust from the only person that ever mattered anymore. This is his first time ever using it though-he'd never needed it before now. Even when Kaneki had been released from the hospital or gone missing, he still hadn't used it. He understood that things had changed, that this was some sort of line he wasn't supposed to cross.

Not that it mattered anymore.

He fumbles through his pockets for the key and manages to open the door without too much trouble. There's little to no light and he turns on the lamp in a zombie-like way, not really paying attention. He's too busy studying the apartment-the bookshelves bursting with books, the desk and bed, the TV stand. He takes it all in like he's a doll with no specific purpose, just looking and wandering for something, _anything_.

He's walking past the desk to the bookshelf when his hip accidentally brushes against something and sends it tumbling to the floor. Slowly, he crouches down to pick it up with hazy eyes.

It's a portfolio. It's probably from back when Kaneki used to go to school, but there's a page peeking out of the corner, covered in what looks like…charcoal?

Confused, he pulls it out and accidently snaps the band that holds the portfolio closed, what seems like a thousand papers flying out. He jumps, staring at the papers as they twirl and fall around him. Grabbing one, his brown eyes widen and suddenly his throat feels like there's glue blocking his windpipe.

It's him.

It's a drawing of him, laughing with his head thrown back and arms high up in the air. He stares at it, a trembling hand raising itself to shakily trace the lines. Seized by an urgent panic, a _desire_, he randomly grabs at the papers around him and looks at them, crumpling some of them in his haste.

Him eating ice cream, a sketch of him sleeping, him listening to music, _him_.

A sob pushes it's way through the blockage in his throat and Hide turns around so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, pulling out the drawers in the desk (where Kaneki keeps all his sketchpads and doodles) with a harsh tug.

They come flying out and he tears through them, opening them to random pages and pausing at one in particular. There's a little doodle of a mini Hide smiling, giving a thumbs-up. Around the doodle are all sorts of scribbles in different handwriting.

"_Really, onii-chan is so devoted! You always draw Sherlock-onii-chan, all the time!"_

"_H-Hinami-chan, that's not true!"_

"_**Who are you kidding, idiot Kaneki? You draw him on the napkins when you think I'm not looking!"**_

_"N-No, I don't, Touka-chan!"_

"_**Oh yeah?! Who do you think replaces the ones you waste, you dummy! If you like him so much, why don't you go and marry him?!"**_

_"T-Touka-chan! That is-Hide's not-I don't really-"_

_"Uwaaaah, onii-chan turned really red!"_

There's more scribbles all over the page, but he can't read them-not when he's like this. The hands holding the page shake as he slowly fall to his knees, tiny droplets of water falling to the paper and spreading, blurring the words.

Hide brings the page to his chest, curling into himself and crumpling it as a broken sob leaves his lips.

* * *

"_Maa, Kaneki! You're always drawing! What's more important, your sketches or me?"_

_Kaneki laughs, a stark difference from his normal flailing at this question when it comes to his books._

"_That's a silly question, Hide," he replies, closing his sketchbook and setting down his pencil anyways._

"_How is that silly?" Hide whines with a pout even as he eagerly waits for Kaneki's answer._

"_Because these aren't just sketches-they're my hope," Kaneki explains, leaning into his chair with a smile._

"_Your hope?" Hide questions, seriously interested now._

"_Yup," Kaneki hums, eyes distant as he loses himself in some far off land. "They're drawings about my most important thing in the entire world."_

"_Your most important thing?"_

"_Un. They're reminders that no matter, I still have a reason to live," the black-haired boy whispers, staring at the falling orange leaves._

"_Is that so?"_

* * *

His chest feels like it's going to wither up and slowly turn to dust, drifting off in the air.

"Kaneki," he chokes, "Kaneki, Kaneki, Kaneki, _Kaneki_."

He repeats it like a mantra, crying and sobbing. It's not fair. It's not fair, goddammit. He wanted to do so much more-but more than making memories, more than holding hands or sweet kisses, he just wanted Kaneki to be happy.

"I'm sorry," he half-screams, half-sobs, crumpling the drawing in his hand. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I love you, Kaneki. I love you."

Part of him expects Kaneki to barge right through the door, smiling and laughing, swearing that everything was alright.

It doesn't happen and he screams into the floor, his fist beating on the carpet

"Why?" he demands. "Why did you have to be so selfless and selfish at the same time?!"

Silence is his only answer as he continues to cry, surrounded by hundreds of drawing of himself drawn by the person he loved most.

A person now too far for him to reach.

"Why are you always slipping away from me?" Hide whispers, staring at the wrinkled conversation on the paper. "Why did this have to happen?"

He stays like that, holding on to as many pages-as many reminders of Kaneki-that he can, sobbing and crying. Hours pass, the sun starts to rise, and a ray filters through the top of the curtains. Pulling himself together as much as he can at this point, he resolves to look at all of them.

He'll find all of them, burn each one of those pictures in his mind and proof of Kaneki. Determined and chest still aching, he pulls out everything and anything he'd ever seen Kaneki draw in, curling himself up on the bed. It takes him half an hour to find the page that breaks him apart again.

It's a confession, a declaration of love, written all over with hearts doodled here and there. It's one sentence, over and over again and so sad and beautiful Hide loses it. Really, it's reminiscent of a middle school girl with a crush, but it make Hide's heart break all over again in the five seconds it takes for him to read what it says.

_I love Hideyoshi Nagachika. _

In the corner, it's signed with something Hide's dreamed of-church bells and wedding bands, chasing after children while the smell of food cooking fills the house.

_-Ken Nagachika._

"Damn you, Kaneki Ken," he chokes as fresh tears roll down his face. "Goddamn you."

He wants to bury his face in his knees, but is stopped by something hard and painful in his jacket. He pulls it out and it feels like all the oxygen is sucked out of the apartment for a second as he stares at it, eyes so _lonely_ and _sad_. He slowly brings it to his face and makes himself as small as he can, back against the wall and knees raised to his chest-almost like he's trying to protect himself and disappear at the same time.

He falls asleep like that hours later after he's cried so hard he exhausted himself, clinging to Kaneki's mask like a lifeline.

It's the only thing Hide has left of him.

* * *

**So I'd like you guys to know that I am working on the other fics like His Son and Overprotective Dragons, I'm just posting a few things because they're actually getting old on my computer. This is based off my hidekane headcanon which you can see here:**

** post/99524908991/i-have-this-hidekane-headcanon-that-kanekis-good**

**i just really like artsy hidekane okay**

**Also, sorry if this hurt. A lot. *Runs away***

**bUT HEY, TOKYO GHOUL:RE AM I RIGHT?!**

**Thoughts, requests, questions-leave them in a review and I'll do my best to reply! **

***Sobs because she still hasn't replied to everyone yet***

**Published: 10/14/2014**

**~ForeverBlackSun**


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